


blood tethered moon

by moonlitpyre



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dimileth Hot Flash, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining Byleth, Sickfic (?) in a way, menstrual cramps, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29338389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlitpyre/pseuds/moonlitpyre
Summary: Byleth made her way towards the kitchens. The piece of cloth Mercedes had given to her five years prior clinging to her hand. Over time, she had learned to memorise the remedy—chamomile flowers to soothe the pain and tranquillise the body, hot boiled water to keep the warmth. Such were the words she repeated to herself like a hymn, such were the words that kept her calm amidst the winter.The bags of chamomile she had carried fell to the floor in a swift motion, her hands hovering all over the place as she attempted to stand still between the pain. She knew she should have gone to visit Mercedes—or Manuela who was as knowledgeable to remedies, but the fresh memory of her last conversation with Dimitri kept her head from making favourable decisions.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57
Collections: Dimileth Hot Flash





	blood tethered moon

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to partake in the Dimileth Hot Flash going on over twitter so I wrote this little sickfic about Byleth dealing with period cramps. It's a little sad but you know cramps suck.
> 
> I didn't have a chance to ask anyone to help me beta-read this, so please understand I'm not a Native English speaker and I'm bound to make certain mistakes.

The journey from the cathedral to the dining hall was rather long and arduous, the lingering pain emanating from Byleth’s belly becoming more and more difficult to deal with each step. 

It wasn’t often that the former mercenary dealt with the monthly pains her other fellow mercenaries dealt with, her body more tempered and resistant to discomfort. Her father Jeralt had never been too fond of colder weather, and although there were days in which he spoke of Faerghus with longing—he had always set himself to avoid the frigid northern winds that came with the coldest months of the year.

It was during her first year at the monastery that Byleth had acknowledged her monthly pains. After her father’s passing, through the Guardian and Pegasus Moons, she had dealt with excruciating shots of pain across her belly. She had resolved to stay in her room, receiving visits from Mercedes and Manuela every so often—a warm piece of cloth clung against her belly. It had lasted but three days each time every month, and yet the pain was sometimes tormenting, barely allowing her to sit or stand up.

Byleth made her way towards the kitchens. The piece of cloth Mercedes had given to her five years prior clinging to her hand. Over time, she had learned to memorise the remedy—chamomile flowers to soothe the pain and tranquillise the body, hot boiled water to keep the warmth. Such were the words she repeated to herself like a hymn, such were the words that kept her calm amidst the winter.

The bags of chamomile she had carried fell to the floor in a swift motion, her hands hovering all over the place as she attempted to stand still between the pain. She knew she should have gone to visit Mercedes—or Manuela who was as knowledgeable to remedies, but the fresh memory of her last conversation with Dimitri kept her head from making favourable decisions. 

She couldn’t help but to think how much he had once enjoyed the chamomile tea they would often drink together in the afternoons after class, how she would always carry these extra bags should he ever have the time to spend alongside her. He had been there the first time she had received a painful moon visit, had offered to make her tea and gifted her a chocolate. Now he would barely look at her, let alone share that warmth in his heart that offered so much comfort on cloudy days—on winter evenings, and rainy days.

She followed all the steps to the remedy, prepared to make her way towards her chambers, when a wave of excruciating pain hit her again as she made her way through the student chambers. It was almost unbearable, the feeling of standing still—of walking over as rain and wind hit her face front. She forced herself to sit on the ground, ensuring no one had seen her fall as she covered her face with her hands.

Byleth hated being vulnerable, despised the feeling of someone seeing her so shattered. She had remained in her father’s quarters for days after his passing, had made certain not to leave her room during her moon visits—and she couldn’t bear the thought of someone walking in on her as a tear escaped her cheek because of something as simple as her body’s cycles.

She allowed herself a moment of respite, the cloth she had used for her remedy ushering to cover her belly. She would sit there for a moment while the pain subsided, would return to her quarters once she was able to walk, but the hands that were covering her face only moved for a moment as she adjusted the cloth, then for a long while, she allowed herself to cry.

The chilly rain that had covered the monastery hadn’t stopped as long moments passed. She could tell a few people had walked around her, murmuring what could have possibly happened to the former professor. Some person or other had wondered if they should call for a healer, but no one had bothered to approach her, no one had sat down with her or offered a hand. Byleth made the best to ignore them, to ignore the wet clothes that now clung to her body, and the cloth with her remedy that had now gone cold.

Byleth moved to stand up when she heard loud footsteps around her. The noise, although hard to adjust to for a while, became a comfort for Byleth as she had learned the difference to his new mannerisms—how stronger his movements had become. It wasn’t uncommon for Dimitri to walk around the monastery at ungodly hours, the hunger he tried to repress often desperately calling for him to follow the kitchens. He didn’t enjoy being seen, didn’t like to be noticed in such a desperate need by others, but Byleth had seen him on a few occasions.

He stared at Byleth for a moment, took in the state she was in—how she laid on the ground, one hand desperately clinging to her now colder belly, the other running over her cheeks to clean every remnant of a tear. She attempted to stand up and follow to her chambers before he deftly walked away, not bothering to check on her, when he made her way to her, fists clenched.

“What’s wrong?” he asked curtly, his eye narrowing to the hand that clutched at her belly.

“I—it’s nothing,” she murmured, her voice cracking. “I have the situation under control, but I might not be able to train with anyone tomorrow.”

Dimitri shook his head and turned to walk away, his direction changing from the dining hall to further away into the docks. Byleth did her best to ignore the pinch in her chest and slowly walked towards her own chambers. She thought of the pot she kept on her desk, how she would only need to gather a bucket of water to prepare her remedy again. 

Perhaps she could call for Mercedes, search for her in her chambers, and ask for a spell. Byleth had tried healing herself before, had kept her hands over her belly in plenty an occasion to appease the pain, and although the spell couldn’t last too long, it offered a momentary comfort in the absence of a herbal remedy. But as soon as she took a step towards Mercedes’ quarters, hand clung to her belly, a cape was placed on her shoulders to cover her from the rain; the warm hands of the owner lingering on her shoulders for a moment before he briskly turned away.

“I got you this,” Dimitri murmured, his voice monotonous. He offered her a little bag of sweets, freshly acquired from the merchants at the marketplace. Byleth took them, her head tilting with curiosity as she attempted to study the expression on Dimitri’s face, only to be met with something blank—unreadable. And yet his eyes sparkled with something, a sorrow that paralleled her own. “You’d be best to change your attire into something warmer, keeping those clothes will bring you a cold. I expect you to take care of yourself, and train with the knights tomorrow.”

Byleth nodded quickly, her hands coming to pull out the cloth she’d been keeping in her belly. She watched with a knot in her stomach as Dimitri walked over to the dining hall, his head hung low. Byleth followed in her own course and took a step towards her chambers. The sweets Dimitri had given to her a moment earlier hanging from her hand. 

She motioned to prepare the remedy again, the scent of chamomile now offering a comfort she thought to have lost. The cloak that belonged to Dimitri clung warmly against her body as she searched through her chest to find warmer attire.

When she changed to her new clothes, she set herself down in bed, the warm cloth with her new remedy quickly coming to cover her belly. She laid under his cloak in a fetal position, arms covering over her legs as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

That night she dreamt of Dimitri again, of having tea with him, his smile warming up her chest and spreading to her cheeks. She felt comfort again, if only just briefly, the frigid winds that tormented the monastery all but forgotten. Her nostrils had filled with the sweet scent of chamomile tea.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
